That First Night
by Gillingham
Summary: Colonel and Marianne immediately after their wedding reception.  Take it as a writing exercise on approaching light erotica.
1. Chapter 1

It was time for them to leave the reception. Marianne seemed to be coping fine but Brandon was sure that had she been living on pure nerves the entire day and perhaps event the days leading up to today, she must be close to oblivion. He knew he was. And yet the thought of picking his bride, his wife, up and taking her to the carriage that was to take them to his house where they would finally be alone gave him such a jolt of fresh energy. It had been a long day, but he hoped that a little time of rest would allow them to stretch the day out a little longer once they were on their own.

He took her hand and looked at her, asking with his eyes if she was ready. She smiled and gave the slightest nod and in unison they stood up. Brandon, though not someone who volunteered for public speaking, was for once happy to make his voice heard as he bid goodbyes and their thanks for all those present, announcing their departure. He then, with one swift swoosh, picked his wife up and took off, carrying her - giggling her - to the carriage.

They waved out the windows until they could see anyone anymore, then leaned back in the carriage with a sigh of relief. They were both smiling and simply holding each other's eyes for a while. This was it, they were man and wife and they had just started their journey together.

"You must be tired" he then said. She did look it a little, though she didn't seem too unhappy about it. She smiled at him tenderly.

"Yes, but very happy" she replied. "You must be, too. Edward told me you two were up half the night." She revealed. He laughed.

"Yes, I simply could not sleep in anticipation of this."

"Worries?" she asked.

"Nothing of the sort. Except at a very early hour I did wonder for a moment what would happen to me if you were to suddenly change your mind... But no, in honesty, my butterflies were all to do with this, that we are finally together and we can be open and intimate with each other" he explained. She already knew Edward was prone to a little insomnia and the two men had had a cognac or two to steady their nerves.

Marianne took his hand in hers. What bliss to finally be allowed to do this openly. She had been drawn to him physically for quite some time now, in fact, she had been having many inappropriate thoughts along those lines. What she knew of the physical intimacy between a man and wife intrigued her: it was supposed to be the height of love, the ultimate manifestation of love, yet it was something to be kept hidden. You almost had to pretend no such manifestation and certainly no such yearning or desire existed. She had been aching for his touch by now. Any touch at all. She found that they were stealing little caress already. Brushing past each other at any gatherings, their arms or hands might just slightly touch. They were happy to perform piano duets, as this meant sitting side by side, touching, at the piano forte. They even danced, though the Colonel was known not to be a keen dancer.

Open and intimate. The openness was something they had already managed on he few occasions when they had been able to converse out of earshot from everyone else. There were hardly moments when they were left alone long enough to really talk about things, but on few occasions even that was known to happen. Marianne's mother was their companion but conveniently popped in to some other room or the end of the garden or where ever where she was technically near but obviously letting the sweet pair get to know each other better. Mrs. Dashwood had nothing but the highest regard for Colonel Brandon and she told so as well to anyone who was interested. If ever there was an honorable man, it was Colonel Brandon. What he had done for her family was so much Mrs. Dashwood did not know how to begin to thank him. And so, when it had not been crucial for the sake of public appearances, she had been a rather absent minded minder for her middle daughter, hoping that by allowing Marianne and Colonel Brandon a little privacy would make their bond stronger.

And she was not wrong. Having spent time getting to know each other a bit better through music and literature while Marianne was recovering from her near fatal illness, Marianne had learned to understand that Colonel Brandon was always honest and disliked veiled discourse. He wasn't crass and he was perfectly diplomatic and tactful, but the best way to get on with him was to be present. Mean what you say and simply say what you mean. Marianne appreciated it, as it was her nature as well. Only with that ghastly Willoughby her younger self had no yet learned enough about diplomacy and tact. Through their conversations in the garden of Barton Cottage, they had learned about their mutual affections and respect for each other. Their love. Eventually Brandon had proposed and Marianne had been the happiest person on the planet and accepted with no hesitation.

The couple held each other's eyes a while longer as their journey to Delaford started, and when Brandon felt they were far enough away from prying eyes, he eased himself into the corner more comfortably, reached his arm around Marianne's shoulder and pulled her to rest against him. There was time for a little rest before they'd reach their destination. Neither of them fell asleep, of course. The carriage rocked and there was the noise from the horses, but the main reason for that little sleep evading them was quite simply the excitement of finally being together. Brandon wasn't quite sure how to resist touching her more as he felt her back against his chest. She was so beautiful he thought his heart would burst if he was not allowed to touch her soon. In the past weeks he had been in agony at times to hide his bodily reactions to her nearness. He'd remain sitting at the piano chair after a duet with Marianne simply because his clothing would do little to hide where his body was leading his thoughts. The way Marianne had responded to his little stolen touches lateley, and the way she, too, would take the opportunity of slight physical connection allowed the colonel to wish and hope that he might be in a position of declare his love for her in the strongest way he knew how.

The hand he had reached around her shoulders was caressing her shoulder now with small movements, and his cheek was resting against the top of her head. He could tell that her breathing was rather shallow, and as the evening was growing darker through their journey, he suddenly felt her moving her arm so that she could put her and on his thigh, just above his knee, matching his movements on her shoulder. Reciprocation of the subtlest kind. If only the journey would soon be over he would not waste one moment in carrying her up to their rooms. His housekeeper had been instructed to prepare them for today. She had also been instructed not to bother with a second bed. Brandon was adamant that he and his wife would share their bed. They had waited long enough to be together and would not be parted from each other the only time they would have the luxury of being free with each other, the night.

After some time he saw that they were almost there. He realized his own breathing was on the shallow and rapid side and his heart seemed to be pounding so hard he wondered if Marianne could feel it.

"We're almost at Delaford, dearest. Do you mind if I take you straight upstairs?" He kissed her hair as he said this with a smile, a playful tone in his voice. She let out a little giggle of laughter.

"I think you should take me straight up, Christopher. I have been married for hours already but am yet to be kissed like a newlywed wife." she whispered back, straightening herself up form him and turning to match his gaze. They were both smiling and knew they were thinking the same thing.

Finally the carriage stopped, and Brandon jumped down so that he could catch is beautiful wife in his arms. He carried her over the threshold to his house, but his plans to simply carry her upstairs were thwarted by his entire staff having lined up in the foyer to greet their master and new mistress. Still smiling and laughing, he set her down and they greeted everyone, thanking them for their congratulations. Then, at long last, they took the stairs. At the door to their rooms he picked her up again. This was the one and only time he was going to bring a bride here, he was adamant he would do it right. By the time he set her back down in their rooms he could feel his own excitement struggling against his trousers. How he managed to keep calm in the carriage and before his staff he couldn't tell.

They stood there breathing heavier than usual, speechless and simply staring at each other not quite knowing what to do next. Brandon then took a step closer.

"You wanted to be kissed like a newly wedded wife..." he murmured, then wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her to him for a kiss. If Brandon felt somewhat nervous in his anxiousness, all Marianne knew that she wanted to be closer to him, wanted to be kiss and kiss him herself. Yet she didn't quite know what to do. She felt sublime in his embrace and felt the heat and tenderness of his kiss on her lips. Tentatively she responded to his touch and new worlds opened to them both. Marianne did not know where or when she was anymore, she simply wanted to be closer to him, to touch him more and for him to touch her more. Her heart was pounding and she could not begin to comprehend how she was feeling. It was like having butterflies and a source of extreme heat in the very depths of her belly all at once.

To Brandon her response to his kisses was heavenly. There was going to be a true union between this new husband and his wife. They eventually broke for air, and with a somewhat uncertain, trembling voice Marianne thought it best to ask.

"What happens now?"

Brandon had to clear his throat a little as well as he thought how to answer this.

"I would so like to touch you. Like a husband. If you feel it too, I would like to get to the part of our vows where I promised I would worship you... with my body..." his voice was little more than a whisper, but it had the same effect as his voice always did: Marianne's heart did a somersault or two and she had to work to be able to breath again.

"You will tell me what to do, Colonel?" she asked, excited but nervous at the same time.

"Christopher, I think here where there's just us, perhaps I can be Christopher to you..." he suggested. She smiled and nodded, then tiptoed a little, reaching for his lips again with hers. She thought perhaps she was being too forward or bold, but nothing in her husband's demeanor gave her that impression.

"Try not to worry, dearest," he then added between kisses. "We are doing what nature intended. We'll work it all out together."

His kisses became more intense, more demanding. She was happy to give into them and found eventually she was demanding and giving just the same as he was. She had never felt like this before. He pulled her in even tighter and she felt something pressing against her belly and with that he let out a gasp and quiet moan.

"I do believe we are waring too many garments..." he then whispered to her ear between their kisses. He shook his own jacket off, then focused his attention to her clothing. She took his lead and unbuttoned all she could, but in the end he ended up undressing almost all of her, then tucked her into their bed before undressing himself. Marianne felt herself blush and her mouth go dry when she realized he did not even leave his shirt on. She still had something of her undergarments on! He didn't leave her gasping for too long. He slipped between the sheets himself quite quickly and was immediately leaning over Marianne, claiming her lips again. In that brief moment she had seen what it was that had pressed against her before and was now pressing against her thigh. It was both frightening and intriguing. She had worked out that some form of entering would be taking place on her wedding night but his member seemed so big - how would it ever work! And yet she felt her own core catch fire and start burning demandingly.

She felt that warmth return and doubts and fears receding again. The intimacy of the situation made her heart pound and she couldn't think when she would have felt more happy. When his hand went exploring her body it felt like the most natural thing and she wanted more. The exploring hand found the hem of her undergarment and started climbing up on her thing under the hem, creating a sweet ache within her. As his hand came upwards on her body, so did what remained of her clothing.

"I want to see you, Marianne, completely," he whispered. She had seen him, why should he not see her? It was just the two of them behind closed doors. She must stop worrying about modesty in at a time of intimacy. The garments came off. And very soon afterwards his kisses started to trail along her neck down, eventually reaching her breasts. One of his arms supported him so that he wouldn't quite crush her, the other started exploring again. Marianne could do nothing but let out the whimper that had been trying to escape for some time already. Without really knowing what she was doing she pushed her fingers into his hair and caressed his head harder against her bosom. He let out a moan.

Then her whimper became a full moan filled with surprise and, then, pleasure: his hand had slipped between her legs, applying flat pressure on her mound. Marianne thought she was going to burst or combust. Or both.

"So beautiful...sweet..." he was whispering between kisses.

"Christopher... ahh... " she was completely lost for words. When his finger slipped between he folds, touching something so sensitive it made Marianne let out a half stifled cry of wonder, he groaned again. Through these new, joyous and beautiful sensations he was giving her she could feel his member against her thigh again, rubbing against her more intensely now. Her hands had found courage to explore his body as well as far as she was able to reach. The skin on his shoulders was smooth and beautiful, but it was his chest that added to her sense of wonder. It's shape and the hair on it attracted her in some primal way. When he moved up again to claim her lips she took the opportunity to weave her fingers through that hair, thinking how extraordinary this all was. And that was about the last coherent thought she had for a while as his finger entered her.

"Oh darling..." he panted, seeming quite hot and bothered, lips slightly swelled from all kissing. "Dearest Marianne you are so beautiful, exquisite... I'm sorry it will hurt you some at first but I would so like for us to join..." his words were punctuated by his already heavy breathing and the moans and little whelps Marianne could not help but make in rhythm of his finger exploring of her most private parts.

"Yes Christopher..." was all she could sigh in response. She had just enough powers of deduction to understand that he would be replacing his finger with his member. She could feel how wet she was down below. It had started the moment he had made all those butterflies go.

Christopher shifted himself right on top of her, positioning himself between her legs, making her spread them out further. He stopped there and they locked eyes.

"Marianne, gods how I love you" he declared, reaching for her lips once more.

"And I you, Christopher" she replied.

"I'll be as gentle as I can, my love, it shouldn't hurt very long" he explained once more with such compassion in his eyes Marianne started to worry just how much it would hurt. Her dear sister had explained some things, but right now Marianne was convinced it had not been anywhere near enough. Then her resolve returned. It was time she became a woman and not just any woman: Christopher's.

"I want to be yours, Christopher" she said, hoping it would encourage him and would allow him to feel less guilty about what he was doing that he looked right now.

Her request spurred him to action. She suddenly felt him move and rub his hard member against her folds, slipping between them, still rubbing up and down against that sensitive nub she had felt him touch before, sending such waves of pleasure and joy through her entire body. He was sliding up and down easily in the moisture her body provided, but then he reached his hand between them and guided the tip of his member straight to her core. Slowly he started to push in and Marianne had to whinge in pain. Nothing she couldn't handle, but it was there. She was in awe of the mixture of sensation as he, grunting as well, kept pushing himself deeper within her. It was a little painful, yes, but there was also pleasure in it. Eventually Christopher stopped moving. They were both breathing heavily. He kissed her again, her arms were wrapped around his neck and shoulders and they took a long look into each other's eyes again.

"Are you alright, my love?" he whispered his question. The burning pain Marianne had felt was easing and after a little moment she nodded her reply. Christopher flashed her his beautiful smile. The one that not many had seen. The one that did not hold back anything. She smiled as well.

"Hello wife" he said with the sweetest grin she'd ever seen on his face. She let out a little laugh. True, they were now completely married. Then he let out a stifled moan. The pressure was getting too much, he had to move. He moved a little, raised his eyebrows in question and Marianne understood. Yes, her nod replied, she would like him to continue. As he moved back out and in again slowly and gently, Marianne started to fully take in the exquisite sensations he was giving her. She also saw that he was receiving them as well. His face expressed his pleasure so openly. This man truly was so different when they were alone than in larger company!

As his movements became stronger and faster, they were both at the mercy of their senses, groaning, panting, crying out and groaning. Marianne thought she was lifting off from the realm of normal sensations into something big an unknown and she did not want to know how to get back. She was only aware of Christopher, his hands and mouth exploring her a his member sank into her again and again and again. Her body seemed to know how to move with him, make him come in deeper, coax him on by wrapping her legs around his hips. The pace quickened and the noises they made became louder. Marianne started to feel how all those beautiful sensation she had been feeling gained momentum, built pressure inside her and how every stroke of Christopher's member built her up for something she wasn't sure if she could endure.

"Ohh, sweetest, I'm almost there..." he groaned, looked at her and saw she was not excactly coherent. He hoped she was close, too, and slipped his hand between them to press his fingers on her special nub. He was adamant she would get all the pleasure possible out of this, her first time. To think that he was her first, she had wanted him! It didn't take long to bring her over the edge. With two more strokes she practically broke apart underneath him with an uncontrolled wail, her body arching into his, eyes closing, her arms winding around him tighter. And he felt the shocks that ran through her, gripping his member tighter, pulling him over the edge as well within a few more strokes. She was so tight, hot and beautiful Christopher had not realized it could feel so good. He was rather vocal as he came as well, mumbling her name as the pulsing of his cock eventually started to wind down. It was like the roof of his head had blown off and he was no longer capable of coherent thought.

As their breathing started to level, he rolled to his back beside her and pulled her to him. "How I love you, Marianne!" he exclaimed. She felt so good being held by him like this. She couldn't quite understand what just happened, but she knew she would be wanting to experience it again. And not too far in the distant future.


	2. Chapter 2

Marianne's wish for experiencing more marital love did not go unheard. The very night after Christopher had made love to her for the first time saw the newlyweds learn more about how to enjoy each other.

"How I love you..." he whispered, still somewhat out of breath as he rolled himself on one side of her, pulling her close.

All Marianne was capable of, coming down from the most amazing sensations she had ever known, was to pull up even closer to him and kiss his beautiful mouth. For a while they simply enjoyed the afterglow, looking at each other in the eye, exchanging soft and gentle kisses. Christopher played with her curls of hair with his fingertips and Marianne simply kept her eyes on him. That little smile on his face was one of the most intimate expression, something she somehow knew was there just for her.

As they eased down, Christopher started to move off the bed. Marianne was a little surprised and found herself feeling strong disappointment at the sudden loss of his closeness. He saw this and leaned back to the bed, kissing her gently.

"Oh I'm not going anywhere, just one moment..." he explained as he went to the fireplace. A large kettle of water was kept warm by the fire and Christopher mixed some of the hot water with cold water from a jug at the washing basin. He then returned to the bed with the basin, a washing cloth and a towel. He squeezed excess water off the wash cloth and smiled at Marianne who had turned to her back, following what he was doing with her gaze.

He kissed her again, then started gently wiping her down with the cloth, starting from her neck. His lips led the way for the cloth. Everywhere he kissed the cloth would soon follow, slowly making tracks over her breasts, her soft belly and eventually her little triangle of hair. His progress from her neck to her nether regions had ignited that fire in her again. When his lips caressed that sensitive place where the front of her thigh met the edge of her mound she could not help letting out a small moan and her legs instinctively moved apart to give him more move. She had no time to think of what happened next, but when it did the flame that had been ignited by his ministrations so far truly exploded into a roaring inferno. The cloth - and his mouth - slipped between her folds giving her the most delicate sensations. He was so gentle in wiping her clean from their earlier encounter. Wiping both with the cloth and his tongue.

"Are you sore?" he asked, and the loving gentleness in his voice almost made her heart explode with the love she felt for him.

"A little... not much," she managed to reply, not being able to produce much more than a whisper. The whispers turned into full voice, but in the process Marianne lost the ability to form coherent words: Christopher's mouth was keeping her on the verge of something beautiful and otherworldly. She wasn't sure when, but at some point the wash cloth was discarded and what she could feel in that most intimate part of her was his mouth, his tongue and his fingers. He was moaning as well and as her hips began to respond to his tongue he started to go faster and stay more intensively on her sensitive nub. Soon she was no longer on the verge but fully over it. Her moan became a complete cry as she unraveled under him, gripping the bedsheets for something to stop her from floating away. He kept his mouth on her through her ecstasy until her breathing started to come back down to normal. Eventually he climbed up, wiping his mouth a little to the back of his hand, grinning happily.

"Christopher..." she was practically speechless. He had truly taken her by surprise in the most glorious manner.

"Are you alright?" he asked with slight concern. He loved his new wife so and had desired her in every possible way a red blooded man can, but he did not want to frighten her with too much.

"Beyond alright!" she gasped.

"It was unexpected but glorious," she explained. He smiled at her and lay down next to her. It did not go unnoticed when he moved next to her that his member was quite hard again and she understood that perhaps something should be done about that. The sensations he had given her...well, would she be out of place to try and reciprocate? Surely not? Everything she had learned about romantic interaction between a man and a woman involved both of them. It was her turn to lean out from the bed.

He looked a little quizzical until he realized where she was headed. The washing bowl and the cloth. A slightly coy smile lingered on her face as she sat down on the side of the bed and started to wipe him down softly and gently. She had expected to feel a little scandalized for their nudity, but now found that it actually felt quite natural. This is how she thought you were supposed to feel in the company of your husband. She also found she was actually quite curious about her husband's body. Men were a complete mystery for someone who had grown up with sisters only. Sure she had a step brother but he'd never really lived with her and the sisters so that didn't really count. Marianne had always been certain that her friends who had brothers had a somewhat more straightforward and less fussy approach to males. And so Marianne's cloth and her free hand roamed Christopher's jawline to his chest, twirling the hairs there through her fingers. When she brushed over his nipples he closed his eyes and gasped, shifting his hips a little. Marianne didn't dare look down to his manhood just yet.

Her hands slowly stroked over his abdomen and she gave in to her curiosity and leaned down to kiss him. He held her to his mouth for a long, deep kiss so hot Marianne wasn't sure how she was going to recover. When they had to break for air she took the opportunity to start exploring his body with her mouth just the same has he had done to her earlier. Her kisses trailed over his chest and onto his nipples, luring out another gasp of pleasure from her husband. She moved lower and lower and she realized she had reached his pelvis and his member. Not sure what to do, she first stroked around his pubic area with the wash cloth and he rewarded her bravery with heavier breath and low grunts of pleasure. When she looked up she saw his eyes were on her, full of heat and love. She wasn't sure if her next intended step was acceptable and he must have seen it in her eyes as he gave her an encouraging nod. The washcloth then gently brushed along his shaft and over the tip. His low grunt became an uninhibited moan.

"Oh my... ahh...so lovely..." was all she was able to make out from his mumblings. She was in awe of his reaction to her actions. She was giving him this much pleasure with the simplest of touches. She repeated her movement, he repeated his moans. The cloth was becoming a hindrance, she decided and dropped it on the floor. She wanted to know what his member felt like if she held it. Her fingers did not reach around its thickness and it seemed so very long. Nothing like the statues she had seen in London.

His hand gently took hold of hers on his member, and he softly guided her to move her hand up and down. And as she did, his breathing became even heavier and his hips bucked up slightly in the rhythm of her strokes. She noticed that he responded particularly strongly when she ran her palm over the red tip of his member. He was becoming harder and more red.

Yet he had done more than this to her, and she could not help but wonder if he would feel what she felt if she reciprocated with her actions. With a little uncertainty she leaned down again. He saw what she was intending.

"Oh sweetheart, you don't have to..." he started. She lifted her gaze to meet his.

"Is it not acceptable?" she asked, looking a little apologetic. He shook his head.

"No, no, it's not that.. it's, in fact, extremely acceptable to me but I hadn't dared hope to ask this soon," he quickly explained still responding to how she held him. She smiled again. He wanted her to try this, she would.

She turned her attention to his hard, throbbing member again. It was still hard to believe it had somehow been in her. Never mind how wonderful it had felt after the initial discomfort. Timidly she pressed her lips onto the tip as in a chaste kiss. He gasped and bucked his hips. She tried to think of how his mouth had felt on her and with that encouragement she opened her mouth and started to kiss his tip more brazenly. Christopher was letting out a constant moan now, moving his hips non-stop.

"Oh, please...yes... so beautiful..." he was gasping. Suddenly she felt his hand on the back of her head, guiding her to a rhythm.

"Oh gods, darling... a little more, please" he was now almost begging. She could tell how his excitement was growing. His every move was growing in intensity and heat and she realized he wanted her to take his member deeper into her mouth. Which she did: as deep as she could without gagging. Then out again, keeping her lips tightly on the shaft. His moans we so excited now they were almost whimpers.

"Darling... that's beautiful," he said almost as if he was trying to sober up, then guided her lips off his shaft. Marianne was again a little surprised.

"What you are doing is wonderful beyond words, but if you carry on I will soon be spent and I wish for us to release together again" he explained to her in a feverish voice while sitting up and pulling Marianne to his side again. A long, deep kiss and his arms around her led Marianne to feel that heat again. Her fire. Christopher pulled her onto her back beside him and rolled himself partly over her, one thigh between hers, one arm supporting him above her, the other roaming over her breast and down. When he reached between her legs he found her already hot and wet. With a few strokes he had her moaning and panting again and he deepened their already wild kisses even further as he moved fully on top of her.

Marianne had a better idea of what she was waiting for this time and was anxious to feel it again. There it was, Christopher rubbing that glorious red tip against her core, almost making her come there and then.

"Please..." it was her turn to plead. She knew she had to feel him inside her straight away. Christopher was in no condition himself to tease and pushed himself into her hot core. Gods she was tight and beautiful and amazing and everything good between heaven and earth. It was not possible to hold back this time and Christopher started to move in and out with strong strokes. They held each other's eyes and they were both letting out moans and cries in the time of their joint thrusts.

They could read each other's faces as the rhythm and intensity of their movements gained speed and strength. Christopher had to try distracting thoughts to keep from coming: he wanted to wait for her. He did not have to wait for very long.

"Ohhh! Christopher!" she moaned as her grip around the back of his neck tightened and her thighs gripped him harder around his hips. He felt how she tightened around him and this was his undoing. Together the lovers moaned gasped and cried out their release and pleasure. Marianne had not imagined this could feel any better than the first or the second one, but somehow it did. Christopher emptied his seed deep inside his wife again with a few more uneven thrusts and then collapsed on her. In a moment he remembered he might be crushing her and put some of his weight on his elbows. He was pleased to feel, however, that his wife was pulling him down, making him stay on top of her. To be wanted by this amazing woman like this was heaven to Christopher.

When he eventually rolled off her and pulled her to him again, she sought his eyes with a smile on her face.

"Christopher, that was... beyond what I've ever been capable of imagining" she explained. He chuckled and smiled back at her.

"Likewise, my love. I may have to start revising my business appointments to make sure I do not have to stay away from you for too long at any time" he said softly.

"I do hope we don't have to be apart much, darling. Though I do understand you have your work and engagements," she replied.

With another kiss or two the lovers, sated and happy, fell asleep in each other's arms.


	3. Chapter 3

That First Night part 3

The morning found the new husband and wife wound and wrapped around each other deep in sleep, breathing in each other. Every inch of their skin strived to be in contact with as much of the other one's skin it was hard to tell where one person ended and another began. Persistent rays of sunshine found their way through the curtains and the lovers started to stir awake.

For a while all that was heard was deep breaths, low and soft sighs of bliss and ease. Eventually they became more self aware and knew what the warm bliss really was where they were waking up. Brandon realized he was smiling. To wake up holding this amazing woman in his arms was happiness defined. He heard form her breathing that she was awake now too. When he looked down he saw that she, too, was waking up with a smile. This pleased him no end: that part of him that held his insecurities had had time to worry that she might feel awkward.

"Mmmh...good morning Christopher..:" she nuzzled against him, not quite willing to wake up fully just yet. He let out a gentle little laugh. She was just so adorable. At the same time Marianne was not willing to let go of his warmth and scent.

"Good morning, dearest," he replied, and for a good while nothing else needed to be said. But the rays of sunshine were very persistent and the lovers eventually had to admit defeat.

Brandon nuzzled closer to Marianne's face and kissed her tenderly. "Why don't I go see if we could find some breakfast and let your maid come help you get ready?" he then suggested softly.

"I suppose we should get up," she agreed. "I haven't a notion of what time it is, and Elinor is coming in the afternoon." Marianne remembered.

Unknown to Marianne and Christopher, the servants had taken particular interest in their master and mistress. They had found it slightly peculiar that Mrs Brandon had not wanted a maid to help her undress. The earlier instructions that the couple was going share a bedroom was also a novelty. A particularly curious maid had tiptoed past the couple's bedroom some time after they had gone in and had returned to servants' quarters with a deep blush on her cheeks. There was no mistaking the sounds she had heard to mean anything but a joyous and mutual consummation of wedding vows.

The same maid came into the bedroom after the Colonel had come down and sent her up. The maid, Anna, found her new mistress already drying herself on a towel. Anna helped Marianne dress, and was then left to see to the room. Downstairs would be interested to see the sheets, no doubt. When Anna stripped the bed she saw the stains on the sheet and stared at them with wide eyes. She was still young and had not had a chance to be courted by anyone. The sound she had heard last night and the sight of blood on the sheets baffled her: surely it must have hurt if there was blood, yet what she had heard was joy. Anna shrugged off her concerns and gathered the laundry. There was work to be done and she could dream about falling in love when she retired to her own bed at night.

Breakfast was followed by a leisurely walk on the grounds. This allowed Brandon and Marianne more time alone away from prying eyes. His staff was decent sort, Brandon knew that. They were not ogling them in hopes of juicy gossip, but Brandon simply wanted to extend the exquisite sense of intimacy and privacy a little longer. Have his wife to himself alone a little while longer before the demands of family and and society would force him to share. Oh he would be the proudest of husbands when they would take part in various events. He was certain he would be the envy of many other men to have a wife who was not only beautiful but who also had a quick mind and was always amiable company to whomever she was talking to. His wife.

Their stroll was punctuated by every possible reason to touch each other. A little game of chase or hide and seek here and there, admiring the views and leaning against each other at every opportunity, holding hands when walking - all the necessities of blossoming love desperate to express itself. After some time desperate was the right word for how Marianne and Christopher started to feel. The longing they had learned and released last night had started to build up again and neither could wait to find a location where they could embrace each other without the concern of being seen by anyone.

Their opportunity presented itself in a form of the observation pavilion that Brandon's father had erected when he had first inherited the estate. The pavilion overlooked a particularly handsome view over a valley and rolling hills in the distance, but Marianne and Christopher only had eyes for each other. The open and honest manner they had learned with each other when Brandon had started courting Marianne and they had began to really know each other was still very much present when they stepped into the pavilion and turned to look at each other. There was no place for posed coyness or assumed chivalry. The longing they had for each other at every level was as good as tangible and neither wanted to deny it. Quite the opposite: now that they were finally husband and wife they could at long last embrace it.

"Oh Gods, Christopher..." she managed to mumble as she as good as threw herself at him. He was more than ready to pull her to him and by the time their lips almost crashed into each other's their breathing was heavy and their hands were already frantically fumbling around each other's bodies. Christopher felt his arousal reach a state where he would need to release his member or he would be in agony. But he also wanted Marianne feel the same heat he was feeling, for her to have every joy possible between a husband and a wife.

They stumbled in the pavilion until Marianne's back was against one of the pillars. Christopher pressed himself against her, they ground against each other with their bodies is some larger scale imitation of their mouths and tongues.

"Oh Marianne...Marianne..." he was unable to form sentences for what he wanted to tell her. How she set his heart to a rate he had not experienced before. Simply seeing her from a distance alone filled him with desire to spend all his time with her, to lay his soul bare in front of her and trust his very essence in her gentle hands.

But right now, in this moment, all he could do was to show her. His hand pulled up the hem of her dress, collecting the material up until he could reach under it, touch her thigh, run his hand up that beautiful thigh and between her legs. She was already so hot and wet that he could feel it through the material of her underwear. She whimpered at his touch and gound her mound against his hand, wanting more.

"Marianne, I want you so..." he whispered and she felt his hot breath on her neck.

"Yes Christopher, please.. I want you too..." she replied with shiver in her voice. One night together and she couldn't think anything more desirable than to be in Christopher's arms and be made love to by him. And making love to him.

Christopher somehow pulled down her underwear and she managed to release one leg from their confinement before Christopher all but crashed down onto the stone bench that ran along the side of the pavilion. As he went down, he pulled her down with him, making her straddle on his lap, facing him. The hand that had so deliciously been embedded between her things just a moment ago had to abandon her so that he could release his member from his trousers. He let out a gasp as it sprang free and Marianne instinctively took hold of it, giving it gentle strokes, much like he had guided her the night before.

"Ohh, that's heaven my love, but I want to be in you... is that alright my dearest?" he managed to pant out.

She had felt that yearning them moment they had come to the pavilion. Last night had released a whole new world of sensations to her, and she was tuned to Christopher's touch so acutely that the way he looked at her a few moments earlier, with that desire in his eyes that she knew was for her, made her want him as much as he seemed to want her.

Christopher wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her until her core was right above his head. Descending slowly onto his length was sweet torture for both. She was still a little sore from last night, but did not care, he felt how tight and hot she was. They managed to keep to a gentle pace only for a few strokes, then their shared passion took over. Marianne grabbed his shoulders for support, her knees on the bench either side of his hips, striving to move faster. He helped her movements with the hold he had around her waist, but after a while even that was not enough for them. Almost desperate for mutual release they needed this to be intense, they needed this to be frantic and even rough.

Christopher grabbed good solid hold around Marianne's waist then nudged himself forward. Marianne let out a little yelp of surprise as he landed them onto the floor still deeply connected to each other. Her surprise was so sweet they both could register the lack of elegance in such movements and they laughed and smiled, eyes never leaving each other's. With the smile still on their faces Christopher could not hold back any longer and started pushing in with increased vigor and excitement. Marianne's thighs were still around his hips and the angle felt so good she actually wrapped her ankles together behind his backside and moved with him, urging him on. Their joint panting, grunting and moaning turned into more vocal sounds of complete release when unraveled first, pulling Christopher over the edge right after her.

A few moments were then needed for both of them to catch their breath. In a bit Christopher looked up from the nook of her neck where he had been resting his head. When their eyes met, their faces lit up in radiant and open smiles. They then burst out laughing.

"Oh how I love you Mrs Brandon" Christopher then said as he started to move off her. He got on his knees then pulled her up to sit.

"And I love you Mr Brandon" she replied. She hoped life had plenty of these moments in store for them. To be wrapped in such bliss and joy together was more beautiful than she had ever been able to imagine.

Still chuckling at their own eagerness and glorious lack of decorum, they readjusted their clothing and got up to sit on the bench, Marianne sideways in Christopher's lap. He still nuzzled her neck, she brushed her fingers through his hair and leaned her face on the top of his head, breathing in his scent. He laughed once more, seemingly a bit in his toughts.

"What is it love?" she asked. He looked up at her.

"I just thought about how far we walked to get here" he then said. "Next time we'll take horses."


End file.
